


Random Scrawlings Late 2018-2019

by ukulele_sloth



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poetry, Sad, Tags Are Hard, angsty, angsty teen - Freeform, personal, prose, thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-29 03:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ukulele_sloth/pseuds/ukulele_sloth
Summary: I've challenged myself to write something once a day for as long as I can and I guess I'm gonna put them here? Any suggestions or corrections or anything, just let me know :D





	1. 26/12/18

Comparing her to a butterfly was poetic. Reading it made me feel… I don’t know? I was more surprised to the fact that you wanted me to read it. The fact that Shania and I aren’t really on good terms but you still wanted me to check over something so heartfelt.  
  
I hope she liked it.   
  
You mentioned wanting to write more and I would love to see how you improve on your writing, if you’d let me. As much as I say it, I don’t think you quite get some things sometimes. I think you probably have nearly got how much I appreciate you in general, but how I feel when you let me read your writing or even see your handwriting, and when you sing. I know these are things that you are self-conscious about and the fact that you feel comfortable doing them around me makes me feel valued. The times you have said that I am one of the few people you talk to also makes me feel this way, especially knowing the people you would talk to would be mostly your family and Shania.  
  
I think it’s mostly for your sake that I have ever apologised to Shania, but I truly don’t know. I guess I like having her in my life but her and I have even less in common than you and I? And all we have in common is possibly similar future plans, croquet, and an inability to draw love hearts.  
  
Part of me wants someone to say that they are your biggest supporter, and part of me wants that to be Shania. Without sounding up myself I would say that I am your biggest supporter, but I know that anyone else would name other people. I practice with you whenever you want me to, occasionally even providing some slight challenge, and occasionally in the rain. I am willing to do this because I want to see you succeed. It’s not purely because I have few friends and croquet is one of the few things we have in common but I want to help you get better so you can succeed. Given the option I want to be there when you succeed.   
  
But I know that isn't possible.   
  
I still do want to see Robin Hood but I don’t want to message the group chat about it because it’ll just be awkward because of the last bit of conversation about it. I would genuinely love to watch a movie with you, whether that be Robin Hood at the movies or the cornetto trilogy somewhere else. I am so appreciative of how you reacted to my slight freak out outside pizza hut. You did the exact right thing. At the time I was worried that you’d stay in the car and wait for me to come back but I am so glad that you didn’t. You gave me enough time to get semi decent mentally, before coming to distract me.   
  
You are a great friend.


	2. 28/12/18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, i screwed up posting once a day but yolo?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also i know I write with loads of repetitive sentence starts but it just gets it out of my head okay? Also this was an idea and it made more sense in my head but then the words stopped coming so yep

This was the next step in her life. This one moment was the start of her new life. Finishing college her last checkpoint, and she had since landed an ideal job, which just happened to be in Russia. Luckily she was the type of person who in their spare time did some random things, including learning the Cyrillic alphabet and some Russian basics.   
  
With a deep breath she took her first step up onto the train car… She may or may not have completely misjudged the first step and only placed about an eighth of her foot on the step. Arms and the baggage located therein went flying through the air, windmilling backwards. Stereotypically strong arms appeared seemingly out of nowhere and caught her as she fell, although the body not up to the same strain of strength of being able to be hit in the shoulder with a small suitcase and not fall to the ground.   
  
It took both of them a moment to realise what had happened, followed by the realisation that their position on the ground could be deemed profane, followed by the third and final realisation that her larger, supposedly sturdier suitcase had cracked open and was revealing all of her more private belongings, intended not to be seen until Moscow. She sat in the disarray until she heard a slightly pained groan from behind her. She jumped to her feet as quickly as she could manage to turn and help her saviour to his feet. He gratefully accepted her hand but they both put too much force into helping him to his feet so his momentum carried him into her and took some athletic ability to save her from falling yet again.   
  
After some awkward shuffling they were both finally righted and stood a socially acceptable distance away from a stranger, well a stranger who had prevented them falling over twice. He raised his hand for a formal handshake. Her eyes glanced up to his face as her hand reached out. Blue eyes, brunet curls, not quite a beard but slightly more than a teens pitiful attempt at facial hair, a nice looking face all in all.


	3. 29/12/128

You asked me who I could sit and ogle at the tournament. I said 4 people. You correctly guessed two, long time gdilf Greg, and only other youth Felix. The other two had you perplexed, to the extent where you couldn’t guess so you don’t know who they were. You said “as long as it’s not me we’ll be fine” oh but boyo so close to the truth.   
  
I could easily ogle you, you are, to quote how my brain says it, ‘a fine specimen’, cause well, you are? I know that we are friends, and I have accepted that after having a crush on you for like 3 years, but yeah friends it is. But fuck if that doesn't mean I’m still gonna ogle you. I can admit when my guy friends have nice bodies, quite easily frankly, almost too easily but I could ogle you. Could is the word though. Because I know that if I did, you would freak out. You would think I’m weirder than I am. You would think I’m making “advances” and just be creeped out.   
  
Chilling in that hot tub was quite nice. Not only because it was relaxing as fuck but because so much of you was on show. I mentioned that I liked your skin which is another case of Josie being a creep, but also another case of Josie liking something that you are self-conscious about.   
In one of our weirder chats you mentioned how when you are getting it on you pay attention to every inch of her skin, no matter who the her is. And boyo o boyo, I could do the same thing to you, I could happily sit and stare at you, and list all the things I like. But that will never happen because again that would be weird.   
  
You are completely comfortable around me and I appreciate that so much but there is something stopping me from being completely comfortable, but I don’t know what that is?   
  
Reading this back i’m betting that’s what is stopping me from being comfortable. Not that I have feelings for you but I kinda do. I know that we’ll never be a thing, I have accepted that, but like I wouldn’t mind if that happened. I need to get it through my thick skull that we will only be friends. I thought I had that down but apparently not. FYI you have a better body than Felix, and a nicer swing than Greg. The fourth person I’d ogle would be Jenny. I need to find someone else to fixate over or I’ll ruin this friendship. Oh well.


	4. 30/12/18

I can imagine that some people would find having a bad memory a blessing. I can’t say that those people are wrong because it would be their opinion, but I’d have to strongly disagree. I have a bad memory. Bad doesn’t quite cover it. I have played croquet at two National Tournaments and one Island-wide Tournament. All three of which I don’t remember.   
  
I don’t remember winning a National Title, but I do remember that afterwards, when chilling in a hot tub with my croquet partner that when he left I cried, whilst still in the hot tub of course, about the fact that I wasn’t happy about winning. I don’t remember getting 2nd place in a tournament, but the winning shot has managed to play over and over and over in my head thanks to all of the people who have gossiped about it and talked it up.   
  
I don’t remember it, but I have had people talk to me about it so many times that I have a false visual. I don’t remember the final two shots that won a Title, and thinking back over it, this title is the same as the first mentioned. All of my croquet endeavors, all the travelling, all merge into one experience when I think about them.   
  
Apart from the bad things.   
  
Getting anxious is the airport before every flight, clear as me starving myself the days before to control the anxious feelings if only slightly. Spending $50 I’ll never get back buying food for my emotionally distraught croquet partner. Losing my fitbit charger somewhere in the other island. Crying in a hot tub. Being treated like an idiot for a three hour bus ride. These thoughts come ready to my mind, almost without thinking.   
  
It takes a lot longer to think about the other memories.   
  
My first time meeting someone else called Josie when I was served 12 doughnuts that we technically had for breakfast on the plane. Having the phrase “I’m gonna fart because you’re not a girl that I’m trying to impress” said at me. Chilling watching a murders unsolved type TV show after crying in a hot tub. Playful dish-washing ending in me being whipped with a tea towel almost perfectly.   
  
This stopped being a piece of writing at some point and became a list of memories; and for that I am proud. I am proud that I remembered things, and positive things at that. It could have spiraled so so easily, into how much better everyone else is at croquet and I don’t know how I match them. But. It wasn’t. It was about me enjoying time with a friend. This is a step forward.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I kinda ran out of words today. I need some inspiration.

Boredom is an all consuming feeling, or rather lack of feeling. It drives people to change, or to become impulsive. It will drive some to better themselves by working out, or learning a language. Whereas others will loaf or vegetate. Impulsivity is a strange fuel. Imagine, someone unable to make themselves meals or remember to eat. But this same person scrubbing a kitchen floor by hand just coz. Having drive is a useless evolution of humanity. Never will my drive to do random bullshit such as learn Ancient Greek, or Irish, or to scrub the kitchen floor actually be useful. I need a drive that wants to wake up, cook meals, work, and clean, because otherwise it just won’t happen.   
  
Like pressure, especially from performance. To some it is a challenge, only to be beaten, but to others it just builds and builds and builds, forcing them to their knees, to submit to it. Pressure, drive, and boredom. Some of the biggest motivators in life. I mean that and the need to fit it with society, but hey let’s not get too deep. Says the hypocrite who is spending New Years day and eve alone.


End file.
